-the Wakefield Doctrine- ‘I replace the broken keyboard and the first thing I post is a ‘re-print’!?! who’s a clark? lol | the Wakefield Doctrine -the Wakefield Doctrine- ‘I replace the broken keyboard and the first thing I post is a ‘re-print’!?! who’s a clark? lol | the Wakefield Doctrine

-the Wakefield Doctrine- ‘I replace the broken keyboard and the first thing I post is a ‘re-print’!?! who’s a clark? lol

Welcome to the Wakefield Doctrine (the theory of clarks, scotts and rogers)

szerszamok

Yes, I did buy a new keyboard. That means…. it’s ok to make mistakes because I have a delete key once again. lol  no, seriously …. I can!

Today is, of course, Valentines Day and being a High Faux Holiday in the Ecclesiastical Calendar of Hallmark, I naturally thought to write a post. Trouble is, I’ve been writing this blog since 2009. I may have written myself out. (The one saving grace: since I’ve been writing about the Doctrine since July 2009, I’ve been doing little else, (‘if it’s worth doing, it’s worth over-doing.’) Maybe something has happened in my life in the intervening 5 or 6 years that I haven’t discovered yet! oh boy!)

Anyway. I need to work on the final Chapters of ‘Almira‘ so here’s a Post from 2012, titled:

“St Valentine, was he a roger or was he a clark…the Wakefield Doctrine deals with the important questions of the day.”*

no, it's ok! I'm a Saint

“No, it’s ok! I’m a Saint.”

St Valentines is the worst, most contrived and cynical, gyno-centric guy-bait(ing), toy-with-the-emotions-of-innocent-bystanders, holiday on the whole damn calendar. Of course we are all familiar with the origin of the holiday and the internet is positively turgid with countless blogs, and stories and articles that tell us all about Hallmark and the candy industry and the rest of the sordid tale of this day in February. I will not try to compete with these other more skilled and capable Commentators ( and -torinis), as I do not have the time or the ‘writing chops’ to do such a ripe topic justice. Instead, let me tell you about my most lasting memory of Valentines Day.

Third grade, parochial school (St. Imelda) and a classroom of 25 students. The boys were required to wear blue shirts and blue ties with OLM printed on the front, fortunately ‘clip-on ties’ had been invented by this time, so easy-peasy; the girls wore the catholic school uniform, i.e. plaid skirts white shirt, socks. damn, little did I realize at that pre-pubescent time of my life how potent that little Roman Catholic Church fashion dictates would become for me and countless other men at a later stage of life.
So with much fanfare, Valentine’s Day arrives and we 9-year-old boys and girls are told that in the afternoon, before the end of the school day, we would have time to deliver our Valentine cards to each other. ( The day before we spent ‘Art Period’ making little baskets out of construction paper and taping them to the front of our desks. These would serve as ‘mailboxes’ for the cards we would receive the next day).
The thing was, the horrible twist to this introduction to the world of love, relationships and rejection was that, the time when class stopped and we were allowed to get up and deliver our little cards was not the end of the school day! It was right after lunch… and it lasted 15 or 20 minutes…as in ‘ now return to your desks and we will continue with the afternoon’ classes’. To sit for 90 minutes staring at the contents of the container on the front of my desk… I will leave it to the Reader to decide the emotional landscape of that afternoon on a February 14th.

Anyone out there not comfortable with finishing the story, or satisfied with their conclusion of this little tale, write us a Comment! Regular Readers Students of the Doctrine know that the rogers gave the biggest cards, the scotts received the most cards and the clarks delivered the most cards(….secretly without the recipient ever knowing who the really fun card came from.)

Now I better get back to work, before I get in trouble.

 

*edited for content and times**

** as in, ‘to account for the experience of (the) reality during which the events forming the subject of the post actually occurred and the effect of the passing time since, and it’s effect on the author.

ok, Back to Almira and the story of two girls growing up a lifetime apart but meeting once before parting.

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clarkscottroger About clarkscottroger
Well, what exactly do you want to know? Whether I am a clark or a scott or roger? If you have to ask, then you need to keep reading the Posts for two reasons: a)to get a clear enough understanding to be able to make the determination of which type I am and 2) to realize that by definition I am all three.* *which is true for you as well, all three...but mostly one

Comments

  1. valj2750 says:

    Happy Valentine’s Day.

    • clarkscottroger clarkscottroger says:

      thank you, val*

      **thereby illustrating the changes inferred in the double asterix in the post

  2. lesliesholly says:

    1. One of the best things about being a long-time blogger is always having content available to resurrect; and
    2. Loved the trip down memory lane as Valentine celebrations at my parochial school were very similar!

    • clarkscottroger clarkscottroger says:

      funny though after enough time passes how (changes in) style becomes apparent… not un-recognizable more, ‘oh yeah, I remember doing that!’ yeah catholic school sure do have a certain memorableness lol

  3. A definite trip down memory lane, my heart always went out to classmates who got very few valentines, and how hurtful that had to be. In later years it was required that if you brought them you had to bring one for everyone, thereby requiring sharing rather than teaching caring.

    • clarkscottroger clarkscottroger says:

      It was such a long afternoon lol… and, as a clark, it was mostly about being embarrassed that I didn’t’ have cards (though, memory over this many years is notoriously un-reliable)… although, talk about seeing through a glass darkly the young have such limited references (and, as we know, the world of the Predator or the Outsider or the Herd Member do not require consent, it is entirely up to us to make our way through the world, learning as we go how best to cope with the people and the places and the things around us.)